The Colour Of Pain
by Dimac99
Summary: Not all missions go as planned and not everyone comes back alive and well... Complete! Enjoy!
1. The Colour of Pain Chapter 1

****

The Colour of Pain

Not all missions go as planned and not everyone comes back alive and well…

No spoilers, set at some anonymous point in the future, paragraphs in italics are thoughts.

Disclaimer – Stargate and its characters aren't mine, no matter how much I love them.

**

"Sir! It's SG's 1 and 5!"

"Open the iris!"

**

Down in the Gate room, the iris slid smoothly open. Immediately, dirt came flying through. Not just little bits, but large chunks too, as though someone was standing on the other side, throwing clumps of earth through the Stargate. But nobody ever did that. The dirt was flying through with explosive force. Explosive, being the operative word. The soldiers in the Gate room knew this, and tightened their grips on their weapons.

**

It was nearly pitch black and it didn't help that the air was thick with smoke and flying debris. No-one was quite sure exactly where the other members of the team were but the Stargate was open, the rearguard were almost there and they were nearly home. Nearly safe.

**

PAIN

WHITE

__

That's not right! Pain should be red! Red for danger. Red for blood. Or black. Black would be good. Black would – should - be unconscious. Unconscious would be good. Unconscious wouldn't be WHITE. _Wouldn't be_ PAIN. _Oh! The_ WHITE's _going _BLACK_ around the edges…_

NOISE

__

Screaming. Explosions. Rushing noises, watery sounding. A loud drum beat. A metallic taste. What?

BLACK

**

There was the characteristic *whuup* noise as soldiers in camouflage gear ran, or fell, through the silvery Stargate. 

__

One. 

__

Two. 

A pause. 

__

Three. 

__

Four. 

__

Five. 

Another pause. 

__

Six. 

__

Seven.

"CLOSE THE IRIS!" commanded the final man.

"MEDIC! MEDIC!" screamed the man in front of him.

As it whooshed closed, everyone heard the thumps. Bodies, bouncing off the back of the iris? 

General Hammond barely had time to feel any grief at the loss of the eighth soldier, who hadn't made it back with the others, when he saw the sixth man, still yelling for a medic, was carrying him. Momentary relief made way for the sickening realisation that whoever it was still might not make it. They were put on a stretcher. There was a lot of blood, and legs were not supposed lie at that sort of angle.

"What the Hell happened, Colonel? Colonel O'Neill? Report!"

End of chapter 1.

** 

Please review! This is only my 2nd fic and I could really use feedback, in particular, on the style I'm using, as I've never written like this before. Also, I've just had to reformat from a .txt file so if you spot any obvious stuff I've overlooked, say so please J 


	2. The Colour of Pain Chapter 2

The Colour of Pain – Chapter 2

**

Dr Frasier pulled off her surgical gloves, mask and gown and stuffed them roughly in the bin. In some ways the operation had gone better than she'd hoped but they were far from out of the woods yet. Only time would tell, as they say.

"Doctor? How did it go?"

Recognising her CO's Texan drawl without even looking up, she told him.

"We might have saved the leg, General, but it won't mean much if she dies."

Janet blinked away tears, surprised at the bitterness in her own voice. She realised she was actually shaking a little, now the adrenaline was wearing off, and she was finding it increasingly difficult to continue to sound professional and detached. It had been tough enough during the operation.

"I have every faith in you, Doctor. Major Carter has received the best possible treatment here today."

He placed a hand on her shoulder for a moment, sympathising fully with his CMO who tried to stand a little straighter, sound more like a doctor than a friend.

"Only Lt Hopkins is giving us any other cause for concern, it'll take some time for his burns to heal but he's in no danger. Teal'c's symbiote is already repairing the injuries he sustained and Dr Jackson's wrist fracture will only need a few weeks in plaster. The others had only the usual assortment of bumps, bruises and abrasions." 

"As I understand from the debrief Doctor, we got off lucky."

Almost as one they looked over towards the bay where Sam's bed had been put.

"If you say so, Sir, but let's hope General Carter gets here soon. Sam might not be lucky enough to have a later."

**

Colonel Jack O'Neill wearily pulled on his boots. He and General Hammond had finally finished their debrief just 15 minutes before but it felt like hours. Time was dragging itself out. He knew he should be down in the Infirmary, checking on his team but equally, he knew exactly why he wasn't.

He was afraid.

He noticed, startled, that there was still blood under his fingernails, even after 10 minutes in a scalding hot shower. Carter's blood. His throat was still dry and aching after yelling for the medics while holding her limp body. No, not yelling, screaming. He'd thought she was dead but at the same time, he couldn't give up hope.

Someone knocked on the door. It opened, admitting Daniel. He looked tired, pale, his left arm hung in a sling. He sat down and the two remained in silence, waiting for news.

End of chapter 2.

**

Thanks to those who reviewed my first chapter and my other fic, I was really touched by your kind words. I only hope I can live up to those words with the rest of the story. Please keep reviewing, it's amazing to know people like what I've written and equally, I'd love any hints, advice or even criticism you may have to make my writing better. 

Dimac99


	3. The Colour of Pain Chapter 3

The Colour of Pain Chapter 3

**

Major Samantha Carter, United States Air Force, pulled on her uniform slowly. 

She still had plenty of aches and pains, souvenirs of her last mission, over 5 months ago, but her lethargy was due mostly to her tiredness. She didn't sleep well these days.

Still, she was looking forward to getting back to work. She missed the puzzles, the math. The logic. It would be easy to forget everything else if she were absorbed in her work, no matter how difficult going back there would be. No matter how difficult seeing everyone would be. No matter how difficult being seen, would be. She had no choice. Knowing about the SGC and the Stargate, Sam could never be happy working anywhere else, on any_thing_ else, regardless.

**

Sam limped off the lift and into the Cheyenne Mountain Facility sub-levels she knew so well, immediately feeling better than she had in months. She followed the twists and turns of the corridors, heading to see the base CO, to report for duty. She was almost there when she met a group of four young airmen, none of whom she recognised. They all stared at her for a moment before appearing to find either their feet or the wall to be suddenly fascinating. Looking anywhere but her face. Only one of them remembered to salute as she limped by, dropping it to hit the man next to her who was still staring. Sam heard her hiss as she turned the corner.

"Idiot! What did you do that for?"

His reply was lost as Sam stumbled over her own feet, cursing.

__

Stupid leg! Stupid, artificial, plastic and metal crap! Stupid, stupid…

"Carter!"

She stopped still at the sound of _his_ voice, making a mental note to beat him to death if he asked her how she was, unfair though she knew that might be.

"Carter, wait up!"

He was smiling at her. No look of shock or disgust or even pity, he looked genuinely pleased to see her.

"You look a helluva lot better than the last time I saw you!"

Colonel Jack O'Neill pulled Sam into a hug.

"You don't write, you don't call, we've been worried about you! I'm glad you're back."

Sam pulled out of his embrace, discomfited by her former CO's uncharacteristic display of affection.

"How are you?"

Sam felt her body involuntarily freeze at the question. _That_ question. And she could tell from the look on his face that the Colonel realised he'd said the wrong thing.

"I'm fine, Sir."

It came out a little more stiffly, a little more formally than she'd have liked.

"I'm just on my way to see General Hammond at the moment, Sir. I'm sure I'll see you later."

"I'm heading that way myself Carter, I'll walk with you."

__

No, no, NO!

She had to get away from him. He was being so Godamned _nice_! Unfortunately, breaking into a run would not only have been too obvious, as well as rude, but in her current state of health and fitness, Sam knew he'd have no problem catching up, no matter how much of a head start she got. She desperately tried to think of another way. She spotted the door at the end of the corridor and barely stopped herself from sighing, audibly, with relief.

"Oh, well, don't let me hold you up, Sir. I've got to… Nature calls…"

She waved vaguely towards the door she'd spotted. He couldn't follow her into the ladies room, thankfully. She began to limp toward it and realised he'd fallen into step with her. Was he mocking her?

__

Don't be stupid! He's only walking beside you! You're being hypersensitive!

She paused at the door and forced a smile on to her face, before looking over at her former CO, who looked a little concerned, she noticed.

"I'll see you there in a few minutes, Sir."

"Well, ok…"

He sounded a little uncertain but after a brief pause, he turned and walked down the corridor.

**

End of chapter 3


	4. The Colour of Pain Chapter 4

****

The Colour of Pain Chapter 4

**

Sam sighed with relief as she slumped against the back of the ladies room door. Then she caught sight of herself in the mirror opposite and felt an immediate urge to throw up. It had been months since she'd last seen her reflection; she'd avoided all mirrors in the hospital and thrown out or covered all of them in her house when she'd finally returned the other night. It was no better than she remembered. She ran her fingers along the raised scar that sat on her jaw, extending almost from chin to ear on the right hand side of her face. Actually, it did seem a little better, a little less livid than she remembered but that was hardly any consolation. At least the titanium implants, which replaced her missing teeth, were indiscernible from her real ones, one less thing to feel self-conscious about. The annoying, stupid, artificial knee they'd replaced her damaged one with suddenly didn't seem so bad and thankfully the huge scar where they'd cracked her chest open was easily covered. Not that Sam intended for anyone outside of the medical profession to ever have cause to see it. She sniffed, then moved over to the sink to splash a little water on her face. No, close up, the scar looked as bad as she'd feared. She couldn't afford to break down on her first day back so drying her face on the towel on the wall, Sam took a moment to compose herself before stepping back out into the corridor.

Straight into Colonel O'Neill.

**

As O'Neill headed down the corridor, his thoughts dwelling on Carter, he heard a dull thud. Worried she'd slipped in the ladies room, he hurried back but before he actually reached the door he realised what he'd actually heard.

__

She's literally right on the other side of this door, probably crying.

He reached out his hand and touched it. The Colonel, one of life's natural decision-makers, procrastinated. He wanted to help her but she obviously didn't want to talk to him. She wanted to get away from him, which was why she was hiding in the damn toilet in the first place. Well, he might not be about to win the Mr Sensitivity of the Year Award but Jack O'Neill considered himself a good friend. But… She _was_ in the ladies room. What to do?

"Never leave a man behind," he muttered under his breath, leaning against the opposite wall and settling in for a, possibly long, wait. "Or a woman," he amended.

__

When the Hell did they get around to building ladies_ rooms into this place anyway?_

**

"Colonel!"

"Major!" he mimicked her surprised tone, with a teasing smile.

"I thought you'd gone on ahead…"

"Yeah, well, I'm in no hurry."

He fell into step beside her as before, slowing his usual march to suit her slower gait. He couldn't think of anything to say for the rest of the walk, so, fearing he might put his foot in it again, he said nothing at all.

**

End of chapter 4.


	5. The Colour of Pain Chapter 5

****

The Colour of Pain Chapter 5

**

Jack O'Neill grimaced as the nurse wiped the back of his hand with the antiseptic swab. She hadn't listened when he'd protested he'd cleaned it in the field. They never did. She'd had a very sadistic looking smile on her face when Doc Frasier had announced he'd need an anti-histamine jab, as it looked like he was having an allergic reaction. Ok, possibly his hand wasn't meant to be _quite_ as big as it currently was and all right, he'd admit it was a _little_ itchy but surely it'd be fine in a few days by itself? No-one had listened. They never did. And the nurse hadn't listened with a big, sadistic looking, smile on her face. As she left to prepare the shot, Jack noticed a familiar figure leaving one of the treatment rooms.

"Carter!"

When she looked up, Jack noticed she looked unhappy and tired, as usual, but she had put back some of the weight she'd lost during her long hospital stay. Most of the red tinge had disappeared from round her scar, but it was still obvious. They hardly spoke these days and it had been weeks since his last, painful, attempt at conversation with her. She was continually going out of her way to avoid him and he had to admit, it more than smarted.

It plain hurt.

As she walked towards him, he realised she was hardly limping at all. He knew she'd been getting intensive physiotherapy but he had no idea it had been going so well. But then, he now only ever saw her sitting behind her desk, in her lab. _Busy_. She'd talk to him later, experiments going, collating important data or some other such excuse. Still, he had to try if the opportunity presented itself, as now.

"You're looking good, Carter," he lied.

"You're looking pale, Sir," she replied honestly. Nodding towards his hand she asked, sounding concerned, "What happened?"

She was actually asking him a question? Not making excuses and running away like a frightened animal?

"Well, it was a… thing…" he told her, gesticulating with his other hand. "Bit like a giant, fat, cat, forget what they called it. Anyway, they _said_ it was friendly…"

She couldn't help but smile a little at his tone and the accompanying frown and he noticed the slight twitch, as the corners of her mouth turned upwards, just a little.

__

Oh, great! Don't tell me I'll have to keep injuring myself to get her to talk to me!

"Glad you're amused, Major, but I may never play the piano again!"

The smile became a little bigger. 

"And we're all mighty glad about it too, Colonel!" yelled someone from across the room, to an explosion of laughter from most of its inhabitants.

Carter's smile grew bigger again.

That smile. A _genuine_ one, not one of her "I'm fine" fakes. Had it really been almost 10 months since he'd last seen it? How had he survived? He'd have to build on his success by being attacked by progressively smaller and cuter animals, obviously, and receiving progressively more serious injuries to make her laugh. There were worse reasons to die, he reflected.

"I have to go and check some experiments I have running, Sir. Good luck with the piano."

A joke! A bone fide joke! Hardly a rib cracker he'd admit, but it was a start. And she was still smiling a little. Jack was visiting the Tok'Ra in a few days and he wondered if any of them kept pets…

"Ready for your shot, Colonel?"

Watching his former 2IC leaving the infirmary, Colonel Jonathan "Jack" O'Neill, fully qualified and certified needle-phobe, hardly felt a thing.

**

End of Chapter 5.


	6. The Colour of Pain Chapter 6

**The Colour of Pain – Chapter 6**

**Bold **= Symbiote talking.****

**

"She seems a bit better than she was, but… It's difficult for me to tell, Jacob.  She's still avoiding me.  All of us, really, but me in particular."

Colonel O'Neill admired Jacob Carter's patience.  He'd managed to wait until the official business between the Tok'ra High Command and the representatives of the SGC was complete before pulling Jack aside for an update on his daughter.

"Have you even _tried_ talking to her?"

The older man looked irritated by the younger's response to his original question.  Jack faced him calmly.  He'd expected the retired General's frustration to be aimed at him.  There was, after all, no-one better to take it out on round these parts.

"Yes, Jacob.  I have.  But she doesn't want to talk to me and it's not like I can force her.  Maybe you ought to come back to Colorado with us, spend a few days with her – it must be nearly 2 months now since you last visited."

"That's not my fault!  The Tok'ra are seriously undermanned for all the missions we have.  You know that!"

Carter Senior sounded very defensive.  Undoubtedly he felt very guilty about being unable to help his daughter more.  His eyes glowed momentarily and his voice changed.  Even as his back stiffened, Jack sat forward a little in his seat.  Selmak knew of his discomfort with symbiotes so he guessed she would only join this personal conversation if she felt she had something important to say.

"**Perhaps you _should force her, Colonel O'Neill_**."  

"What?!"

"**Samantha may believe she is coping with her pain but I believe she is simply hiding from it.  Confront her and the façade may crumble**."

"I dunno…  That sounds like a pretty dangerous assumption, Selmak.  What if it has the opposite effect? Drives her further away?  Damages her chances of ever fully recovering?"

The eyes of the former General, current Tok'ra operative, flashed once more, his voice returning to normal.

"I hate to say it, Jack, but Selmak might be right.  She refused counselling, refused any professional help in that area.  Maybe she needs to open up to a friend rather than a professional, whether she consciously knows it or not."

He looked down at his hands, shaking his head.

"I'll come back and see her.  I'll persuade the High Command I can be spared for a day or two but she'll never open up to me, Jack.  She still thinks she's got something to prove to me – that she has what it takes to be career military.  I think you're probably her best shot.  I mean, Daniel isn't really military and Janet is first and foremost a doctor, not a soldier."

Selmak once more took control of their shared body.

"**I would concur with that assessment.  Also, Jacob will be less able to function in his duties whilst he worries.  That should be enough reason for the High Command to release us**."

**

George Hammond watched the pair taking seats in his office.  Jack O'Neill, one of the finest officers he'd ever had the honour of serving with.  Janet Frasier, the dedicated CMO of his facility.  They were probably Major Carter's closest friends.  They were certainly the two people who cared for her most, outside of her family.  And it was their opinions he would have to base his decision on.  Was Major Carter fit to continue as officer in the USAF?  Certain rules could be bent to keep her at Cheyenne Mountain, she was an incredibly valuable member of the team, but some just couldn't be broken.  She had to be mentally, as well as physically fit.  From the discussion with his subordinates, he quickly ascertained that her physical fitness shouldn't be a problem.  Dr Frasier opined that Sam should be able to pass her physical evaluation in around 6 to 8 weeks, if not sooner.

"But what of her mental… _emotional_… state, Doctor?"

It was Jack O'Neill who answered, squirming in his seat a little.

"Her father and I were discussing that, Sir.  He and Selmak think we ought to force her to talk.  To me."

That explained the squirming.

"Though, personally, I think she would just refuse to talk to me completely if you tried to order her.  He does however think she's a lot better than the last time he saw her, which is something at least."

He shrugged, at a loss about how to proceed.  Not all problems could be shot down or blown up - and this was one of them.  

Janet Frasier looked up, with a sudden smile.

"I think I _might_ have an idea, Sir."

**

End of Chapter 6


	7. The Colour of Pain Chapter 7

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The Colour of Pain – Chapter 7

OK peeps, you asked for longer chapters - be careful what you wish for, you might regret it from now on!

**

Sam had tried to argue with the General. She had too much work to be getting on with. It was unnecessary as she could do it alone. It was a waste of two valuable resources! But he'd remained firm. Insisted his orders stood. _Dismissed her_. Now she was stuck with a further 2 hours of PT on top of her daily hour of physio. And she had to do it with Colonel O'Neill. Fantastic. She didn't just have to spend several hours a day, most days, with him, horribly scarred, she had to be all hot and sweaty too.

**

Jack observed that Carter didn't appear in too good a mood. She hadn't said one word to him since he'd joined her and her physio in the gym. While they'd continued her leg strengthening exercises, he'd warmed up and played with the speedball. He'd just finished that and decided to have a go on the rowing machine when the physio departed, leaving them alone. He tried to sound enthusiastic.

"So, what do you want to do now? A run? Weights? Exercise bike? Rowing machine?"

He didn't catch whatever it was she muttered under her breath but decided not to ask. He pressed, gamely, on.

"What about a run? You'll have to run 3 miles in under 20 minutes, or… whatever it is you women have to do… Sorry?"

Sam repeated, louder, what he'd just missed as he was speaking for the second time.

"_I said_, "I want to spar". You asked me what I want to do and I want to spar." 

"Uh, Carter… Not to sound too un-PC here but I don't think we're uh… in the same weight class. As it were…"

She ignored him, picked some sparring gloves from the floor in the corner and tossed them to him, then selected a pair for herself. Was she insane? She had to know he could flatten her without trying, even at his age. No, she was very sane, he realised. Hitting him would be far more satisfying than any punchbag. While Jack was an officer, he'd never been sure about the "gentleman" part, but he knew beyond any doubt he couldn't lay a glove on her. He'd been brought up never to hit girls… He'd been KO'd before she even squared up to him.

**

It was a bright, clear, afternoon as Jack hiked through the woods surrounding the base with his former 2IC. He'd quickly recognized his mistake the day before in being _too_ gentlemanly. No more choices, or at least only limited ones. Nothing open ended. And _definitely_, no more sparring. At least the swelling had gone down a bit during the night and he could see out his left eye again.

**

As Sam walked behind Colonel O'Neill, she felt rather guilty about his black eye. She had been feeling pretty aggressive but hadn't meant to actually hurt him, just scare him off a bit, hopefully even get him to leave. She hated the thought that she was being manipulated, which seemed pretty likely considering she was being made to train with _him_. Still, his being pissed at her had some compensations. Neither of them had any breath to talk as they hiked uphill. And she was afforded some great views, particularly from her position, slightly behind and below her Colonel. She realised she was thinking thoughts she ought not be, whilst staring where she _definitely_ shouldn't and knew that if her cheeks were not already red, they certainly would be in a matter of seconds.

**

Standing on the ledge, getting his breath back, Jack glanced over at Carter. She was looking back down the mountainside, her cheeks flushed. He felt his stomach doing funny things and was sure it had nothing to do with digestion. He almost laughed out loud at the thought. Yesterday she'd given him a black eye and today, half way up a mountain, he was gazing at her like a love-struck teenager. This whole situation was insane.

**

She was watching him out of the corner of her eye. She wished to God she'd reached the ledge first, then he'd have been standing on the other side of her. Her "good" side. She hated him seeing her face as it was.

**

He'd been watching her staring down the mountain for several minutes, trying to think of something to say. Lately his "lightning wit" seemed to have deserted him.

"Good view."

**

She'd managed to hold back the snort of laughter, turning it into a cough.

"Yes, Sir. Absolutely, Sir."

They stood there for another few minutes before Sam felt the chill creeping into her.

"We should head back down, Major, if you're ready."

Hmm… Between his formal tone and his use of her title, she guessed he was still a bit narked. 

"Major?"

"Yes, Sir. Down, Sir."

He looked for a moment like he was going to make one of his little quips, probably about her choice of words, but apparently, he changed his mind, because he said nothing. He simply held out his hand, indicating she should lead. Damn, he was getting a good view of the wrong side of her face today. Sam quickly turned and began the long walk back down the hill.

**

Oops. They'd ended up on the road a little further out from the facility than they'd been aiming but Jack had no intention of accepting the blame. The fact that it was his fault, he'd insisted they bear further left on the decent than she thought, he decided was completely irrelevant. Carter did not appear to care enough to argue. Jack was momentarily tempted to tell her her navigation skills "sucked dead Goa'uld ass" to get a rise out of her but for once in his life, he managed to keep his smart mouth closed, realising it probably wasn't the right approach. They walked single file, back towards the base entrance. He watched her walking, about 8 feet in front of him. Yep, only the barest hint of a limp left, and my God did she look toned from all those exercises… Jack immediately felt guilty at thinking such unprofessional thoughts. He was supposed to be helping her, not ogling her! Yet, he heard a treacherous little voice in his head.

__

If they decide she's unfit, even if she stays on as a civilian she won't be allowed through the Stargate again. There won't be any damn regs in the way then.

A sickening feeling accompanied the realisation that he had no idea how she felt about him. He knew how she used to feel…

__

But that was then and this is now.

Since that fateful night, she'd done pretty much everything physically possible to avoid seeing him. Admittedly, she tried to avoid everyone in general but just not with quite the same… _zeal_. Not for the first time, Jack wondered if she blamed him. Not that he didn't blame himself, mind, but he couldn't see how he could have done things differently. He'd sent Daniel on ahead to open the Gate with Cochran covering him, while he, Carter and Teal'c had laid down suppression fire to give the other SG-5ers time to get their wounded wan to safety. Of course he was going to trust Carter and Teal'c for that job, not a couple of guys he barely knew and couldn't predict, even if they were Marines. Yes, he felt guilty, but he'd long known that was simply a part of Command. And if she blamed him, well, he wouldn't try to talk her out of it.

**

As they approached the lift to go back down inside the mountain facility, the doors opened, revealing Daniel, who appeared to be talking excitedly, and Teal'c. Daniel interrupted himself mid-sentence on seeing Sam.

"Hey!" he greeted her, with a grin. "Been out hiking then? Mother's love! What happened you your face Jack?!"

Apparently they hadn't seen one another all day and Sam felt her face going very red. Daniel's jaw dropped just as Teal'c raised his eyebrow.

"Sam, did you do that? You… You… You _wife-beater, you!_"

**

End of chapter 7


	8. The Colour of Pain Chapter 8

****

The Colour of Pain Chapter 8

Note - 'The Giggle Loop': the danger that the more you try to suppress laughter in important silences, the harder you want to laugh. (From TV Tome on Coupling, BBC)

**

They'd been training together for several weeks now and Jack had noticed definite, positive, changes in Carter. She could easily have passed the fitness evaluation but Hammond wasn't yet ready to submit her for her psych eval. Neither Jack nor Janet thought she was quite ready for it. However, while she wasn't exactly chatty, she no longer appeared to be trying to avoid him like the plague. She was still taking all her meals back to the lab instead of eating in the mess, but that was about to change. Jack had a plan and he'd enlisted Daniel, Teal'c and Janet to help him.

**

Jack tapped the crudely drawn map on the whiteboard behind him with a pointer. 

"Everybody clear?"

Daniel raised his hand like a schoolboy and made a face.

"Jack, you don't think this is all a little OTT? We're talking lunch here, not planetary invasion!"

"This has got to go like clockwork! Military precision, Danny-Boy, or she'll smell a rat and bolt for it!"

"I think Daniel's right Colonel, you might be _over_ planning this," suggested Janet.

Teal'c leaned over.

"DanielJackson, what is this… Oh Tee Tee?"

Jack slammed the pointer stick down on the desk in front of him.

"_Excuse_ me, but who has the best knowledge of tactics and planning in this room? Who's spent the last 3 and a half weeks in close contact with the subject? Who's the _damn Colonel here?_"

Teal'c face remained impassive, Daniel was only partially successful in trying not to laugh and so it fell to Janet to speak on behalf of their little kidnap group.

"Colonel, I'm going to get in line with Sam and ask her to join me for lunch. You can do whatever you want. Sir."

Daniel's attempts at avoiding laughter were failing and Jack could see he was falling into the Giggle Loop. He sighed, defeated by their mutiny.

"Ok, new plan. We surround her in the lunch queue and don't let her leave till everyone's finished. Agreed?"

**

It proved surprisingly easy in the end. She seemed rather resigned to being stuck in the mess hall over lunch and didn't argue. It wouldn't have mattered if she had, of course, but Jack wasn't sure if her giving in so easily was a good sign or a bad one. Although she didn't really talk, she didn't appear to be ignoring them either. She seemed to be paying attention, even as she played with her food, smiling in all the right parts of the conversation. Usually the parts where he was the butt of the joke but Jack didn't mind, as long as she kept smiling. He did get his own back though by recounting the story of how, on a recent mission, Daniel had managed to mix up the local words for "daughter" and "pig". The part where he'd been thrown face-first into the stinking pig pen by the bar maid's father, while profusely apologising at the top of his voice, brought gales of laughter from both women. Jack rather suspected Janet had a bit of a soft spot for Dr Danny, who was blushing furiously and cleaning his glasses rather aggressively on his t-shirt.

**

He'd had a bit of trouble keeping up on the home stretch. Hell's teeth, the bionic Woman was fitter than him now! They were on the grass outside the base entrance, cooling down. Jack winced as he heard his knee click, loudly, as he stretched.

"Sure you don't fancy another couple of miles, Sir?"

Such a sweet tone. Dammit, was she teasing him?

"No, no, Major, I think you've run far enough today. Besides, we have to get showered and changed soon if we're going to make that movie."

__

That should throw her off balance!

"Movie? What movie?"

He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

"Don't know, it was Daniel's idea."

He hoped he got to Daniel first to tell him about "his" idea.

**

"I guess I got the night wrong."

Daniel glared at Jack for getting him into this mess, plus, he was missing a great looking documentary on the History Channel too. By the time they'd made it to the cinema, the only shows left were; a film that had been declared possibly the biggest turkey since Battlefield Earth ("Hey, I quite liked that!" exclaimed Jack), the late-night horror movie, and some new WW II film which, unsurprisingly, no-one was in the mood for.

Jack tried not to sound too happy or look too gleeful.

"Oh well, nevermind. We'll just have to go get a drink then. Where's the nearest tavern, Danny-Boy?"

**

She'd protested. It wasn't too far, it was out of his way, she'd be fine, but the Colonel had insisted on walking her home anyway. Wishing she'd chosen better shoes as her feet were starting to ache, Sam fumbled for her keys and a thought struck her.

__

Should I invite him in?

Where were the damn keys? She groaned, they weren't there. No, wait… She felt the cool metal in her hand and pulled them out of her bag.

"Found them," she smiled brightly.

"Oh good. For a moment there I was afraid I was going to have to carry you home with me," he deadpanned.

"Do you… want to come in for coffee, Sir?"

"Thought you'd never ask, Carter!"

The look of schoolboyish happiness on his face was too much. Sam couldn't confess to her temporary moment of insanity and send him away.

**

In the end, it hadn't been too bad. He'd stayed for an hour or so and they'd chatted about this and that over a few cups of decaf coffee. They both agreed not to mention the "decaf" part to Daniel.

**

End of Chapter 8


	9. The Colour of Pain Chapter 9

**The Colour of Pain Chapter 9**

**

"It's a stupid idea, Janet.  I don't want to discuss it any more!"

Sam tried to keep her voice low.  Although the mess wasn't terribly busy, there were a few other people there and she fervently wished she could go back in time and take today's lunch back to her lab.

"Well, I do.  I think you're made a wrong decision and now your pride is preventing you from correcting it."

"PRIDE?"

Everyone in the room looked up.  Sam tried in vain to make herself invisible with the power of her mind, while the colour rose in her cheeks.  She managed to bring her voice down again but there was no mistaking the anger in it.

"You think I'd walk around with my face like this if _pride was my problem?"_

"Yes.  I see one of two possibilities.  A, you're afraid people will think you're somehow vain if you cover up the scar or B, my personal favourite, you think it would be pointless covering it up since everyone already knows it's there and that they'll laugh if you do.  But what you don't seem to get is that it's not about everyone else.  It's about you and how it makes you feel."

Keeping her eyes low, Sam muttered.

"You have no idea what it's like."

"What, to be you?  No, I don't, but I know what it's like to be me.  You don't think I feel guilty about putting it there in the first place?  Your jaw was shattered, broken in 3 places!  Colonel O'Neill told me that you hit the steps with such force that he thought your neck had snapped when he heard the sound.  He heard it, Sam.  Over the noise of the battle, he heard it and thought you were dead.  You don't think he feels guilty too?  We all do."

Janet sagged in her seat with a sense of relief.  She hadn't realised how badly she needed to get that off her chest.  Sam looked shocked.

"Janet, I don't blame you!  I'd look at lot worse if you hadn't fixed it!"

Sam shook her head.

"And the Colonel has nothing to feel guilty about.  It wasn't his fault, it wasn't his tactics, it was just bad luck.  I wouldn't have made it back at all if it hadn't been for him."

"Have you told _him _that?"

"I don't need to tell him anything, Janet, he's probably the most experienced field commander I've ever known, ever worked with.  He already knows."

"Are you kidding?  Do you really have no idea of how he's still beating himself up over this?  Over you?  Just because he _knows_ he couldn't have done anything different doesn't mean he doesn't blame himself.  And do you know what?  Now that I've started being honest, I might as well continue.  Every time you've avoided him, ignored him or given him the brush off, you've really hurt him.  He certainly thinks _you blame him.  I mean, sure, you've avoided us all and I know you've been through a Hell of a lot, but the way you've treated that poor man is appalling.  He'd go to the ends of the universe for you and you won't even throw him a bone.  Would a friendly "hello" kill you?  Even now, you only talk to him if you have to."_

"Actually, he had coffee at mine last night."

"Oh.  Sorry."

Janet looked abashed.

"I'm sorry Sam, really.  It's just… it's been so frustrating, not seeming to be able to help you.  And I guess the guilt hasn't helped either."

"It doesn't matter, Janet.  What's done is done.  I don't blame anyone, I'm just stuck with this face now."

"But you're not, that's what I'm trying to tell you."

"Janet…"

Sam shook her head, in frustration, searching for the right words to explain herself.

"This scar is never going to go away, Janet.  Yes, I could cover it up but it would just be a patch, a temporary thing.  It's there when I get up in the morning and I feel it every night when I wash my face before bed.  What am I supposed to do?  Wear camouflage make-up 24/7 if I ever meet a guy I like?"

Sam snorted, with unamused laughter.

"Even if that were possible, there's no hiding the ones on my leg and let's not even start on my chest…"

"This is about guys?"

"No!  Yes!  Kind of!"

Sam sighed and shook her head again.

"It's like you said, how I feel about myself.  It's not just about my face, it's just that that's the one everyone sees.  The one everyone stares at and judges me on.  But the others…  I see those all the time.  I don't need a mirror to tell me that short skirts and low-cut tops aren't me…"

"Short skirts and low-cut tops were never you, Sam!"

They both smiled a little.

"You know what I mean."

"You mean you don't feel attractive?  Feminine?

"I guess that's part of it.  I just can't seem to let go.  I don't remember much about that night, just… colours…  But the scars are there, all the time, and I can't stop thinking about them.  Covering them up won't change that."

Janet sat back in her chair, thinking.  After a few moments of thought, she sat forward and motioned Sam to lean in.

"Talk to Colonel O'Neill.  I mean, aside from the fact you owe it to him, I think he might be able to help.  With the scar thing, I mean."

"What do you mean?  How?"

Janet looked uncomfortable.

"Just talk to him, Sam.  It certainly can't hurt."

"Ok," replied Sam, uncertainly.

If Janet couldn't talk about it, it implied something medical along the lines of Doctor/Patient confidentiality.  She saw the other woman's eyes light up and a wicked grin appear on her face.

"So you two had some late-night coffee, eh?  I want all the gory details…"

**

End of Chapter 9

A/N – I've written pretty much the entire story out on paper (damn those gel pens don't last long!) but I have a… problem.  This story could go either way at the end – shippy or realistic.  Well, when I say realistic, obviously I mean that in the context of a sci-fi show where people travel through stable wormholes to other planets, galaxies even, and do battle with aliens etc…  Non-shippy might be another way to put it.  Do they get together? Do they not get together? Should I write a sequel instead?  Review and let me know what you think, I figure either way I'm going to hack some folks off!

Also, I'm starting a new nightshift job so I won't be updating till Sunday night at the VERY earliest – death threats won't make any difference, I'll be sleeping through them all and won't be online to check emails/reviews but I will check ASAP on Sunday evening (BST).


	10. The Colour of Pain Chapter 10

****

The Colour of Pain Chapter 10

A/N Apparently nightshift has been put back so here's a new chapter and don't say I'm not good to ya…

**

Sam tapped her pen off the desk in irritation. The programme she'd left running on her computer over lunch hadn't completed the calculations she wanted and it looked as though the error message had popped up soon after she'd left the lab because the damn thing was insisting it was only 2% complete. She needed those calculations to move on to the next stage and now she'd have to wait at least another hour, maybe even two. She sighed in vexation. If she didn't know any better, she might think this was Janet's doing.

**

Even as she knocked on his office door, Sam still had no idea of what to say.

"Come in!"

She felt sick and realised her palms were sweaty and her mouth dry. She had to swallow several times before she could make herself open the door. He had his back to her, looking through a filing cabinet.

__

Jack O'Neill? Filing? He must be bored!

Sam resisted the inappropriate giggle impulse and tried not to think about "The Loop". She opened her mouth, still not exactly sure what she would actually say…

"Hello."

The expression on his face when he turned around made the visit worthwhile, in Sam's opinion.

__

Boyish delight.

"Come in, Carter come in!"

That's what it was. Boyish delight. He had a wide selection of smiles and evil smirks, sure, but this was the one that always made Sam's stomach flip. He didn't look his age normally but this expression made him look like a kid who'd got the toy he really, _really_ wanted from Santa. Sam was aware she was still standing in the door, staring at him.

"I… just thought I'd come and say "hello", Sir."

He was grinning like the Cheshire Cat now.

"And you have. I hope you're not leaving already, I have a _mass_ of paperwork I need help avoiding."

Sam closed the door and sat down. Sure enough, both his In and Out trays appeared to be overflowing.

"George keeps insisting that reports can't be filed on the floor. Apparently it's not _military_!"

Sam laughed dutifully.

"If I may suggest… Maybe you should request more filing cabinets, Sir."

He blinked in mock surprise.

"Do you think it would help?"

He tidied up his desk a bit so he could lean his elbows on it. Actually, Sam observed, he just piled all the files to one side, where they balanced precariously. She saw them fall in her minds-eye and hoped she wasn't there when it eventually happened. That was a lot of paper…

"So, what can I do for you Carter?"

Ah. What could he do? How could she broach the subject? Should she even try? What if she got Janet into trouble? Sam decided to keep to the safe road, for the moment.

"Well, Sir… I've realised I don't actually recall thanking you. In fact, I know I haven't."

He looked confused.

__

Adorable.

"Thank me? Well, ok, "thank you" accepted. I mean, you're welcome… But I'm sure you'd have made it home by yourself."

"No, I don't think so somehow, Sir. If they hadn't finished me off, I'd have been dead within a half an hour anyway."

"Okaaaaay… You're not talking about me walking you home last night, are you?"

Sam was pretty sure she looked as confused as him now. But probably not as adorable. And hopefully not as boyish.

"I'm talking about P3X-686, Sir. You saved my life and I never thanked you."

Now he was going a little red and his voice turned gruff.

"Don't mention it, Carter, it was nothing."

But he looked pleased, as well as embarrassed.

For a few moments, the silence between them was awkward, neither of them knowing quite how to fill it. But Janet's words at lunch had piqued Sam's hope, as well as curiosity. If the Colonel had coped with scars, maybe, just maybe, he could help her do the same. She realised she was shaking.

"Sir, I… I wanted to ask you about… something…"

"Ask me whatever you want, Carter."

She hoped he wouldn't regret his choice of words in a moment.

"Scars."

**

"Scars."

Jack O'Neill felt his stomach drop and it wasn't a pleasant sensation.

"Physical or emotional?" he asked, trying to buy some time.

She looked upset and he guessed she'd spotted his discomfort. So much for Poker Face Jack.

"Look, it doesn't matter, Sir, forget I asked. I'm sorry…"

She jumped out of her seat, heading for the door.

"No! Don't go, Sam!"

She probably only stopped at the shock of him using her first name, he knew. He almost never did that. He also knew this might be his first and last shot at getting her to open up and if this was what it took… He'd been through far worse, as he was about to tell her.

"Physical or emotional?" he asked again. "Because I have both in abundance."

Suddenly alarms started blaring loudly all around them.

****

"UNAUTHORISED INCOMING WORMHOLE!"

"Damn! Hammond's off and I'm Officer of the Day. Wait here, I'll probably be back in a few minutes. Ah, crap!"

As Jack jumped up, the files perched on the edge of his desk fell to the floor. He ran to the control room and arrived just in time to make it to the window to see the wormhole "whoosh" into existence.

"Any signal?"

"Its SG-7, Sir. They're a hour early."

"Open the iris."

Jack waited till the wormhole closed before hitting the intercom button.

"SG-7, welcome home. Report to the infirmary. Debrief in one hour."

He hurried back to his office, but wasn't surprised to find Carter gone. She wasn't in her lab either and when he checked with security, he discovered she'd just signed out.

__

Damn that woman!

He couldn't leave till his shift ended and the next watch commander was in place, which, according to his watch, wouldn't be for another 4 hours, 23 minutes and 12 seconds.

Eleven.

Ten.

Nine…

**

Great. He'd managed to get everyone worried now. He'd gone straight round to Carter's place as soon as he could get away, but she wasn't there. Just in case she was ignoring him, he'd banged on the door for nearly five minutes solid. The three different neighbours, who threatened to call the police if he didn't leave, did not appear to be impressed by his Eagles. One little old lady had archly told him that military men were the most violent partners, or so she heard. He stood there in stunned silence as she slammed her door.

"She's not my partner and I'm not violent, _dammit_!"

__

Hmm... Maybe I should take up yoga or Tai Chi or something…

On his way out to his truck, he'd called Janet and Daniel to see if either of them knew where she was. Unfortunately they didn't, nor did Teal'c who was over at Daniel's at the time. Neither were they fooled by his insistence that everything was ok but since no-one knew where to look for her, there was nothing anyone could do. They were under strict orders to call him and let him know she was ok if she turned up though.

**

End of Chapter 10

A/N - The usual, please review…


	11. The Colour of Pain Chapter 11

****

The Colour of Pain Chapter 11

A/N Don't want to give away what happens, but I have to warn you that there is a discussion of torture. Nothing graphic, but if you are of a sensitive disposition, you have been warned.

Also, I've had a lot of problems with this chapter, for reasons which will become obvious, so I'd really appreciate reviews.

**

The nights were quite cold now and it looked like it might even snow soon, but that didn't bother Jack. He lay on a sun lounger in his back yard, in his nice warm fleece, sipping his fourth beer on an empty stomach. Fifth. No, it might have been his sixth actually, but he couldn't be bothered to lean over and count the empty bottles on the ground. This fact alone suggested to him that sixth was more likely than fourth, but it didn't preclude the possibility it was the fifth.

"Owwww! I'm not supposed to get a headache till morning!"

"Well, if you hadn't drunk so much, Sir…"

"Carter!"

He jumped up, relieved to hear her voice, but sat back down almost immediately. Or fell, depending on whose version you preferred.

"Carter, I told you to wait in my office. I was driving all over town looking for you and I think several of your neighbours now think I'm Norman Bates Mk II. Plus, I had to pick up all those damn files by myself! Took me hours!"

"Sorry, Sir."

Her voice sounded small and she was staring at her feet. She was still in her uniform but minus her jacket and she looked freezing.

"Come on, let's get you into the warm, eh?

**

They'd gone inside, him muttering something about "fourth" and Sam had immediately noticed the change in temperature but she was still shivering. The Colonel had given her his fleece before putting on some coffee. He disappeared while it was brewing and reappeared a few moments later with a fresh, deep purple, shirt on and having ordered pizza. Chicken and mushroom, her favourite. They sat at the kitchen table, warming up, drinking coffee and some water too, in his case. She could smell him, on the fleece. His aftershave, deodorant, soap, sweat… even his beer. Whatever the mix of smells that made up the unique scent of Jack O'Neill. When he went to the door to get the pizza, she'd been able to bury her nose in the collar. And she'd smiled, just a little. She hadn't realised how hungry she was till she'd started eating, and it appeared he was more than a little peckish, himself.

**

With fresh coffee, Sam followed the Colonel through to the front room. It was very tidy. Books neat in their case, remotes all sitting on top of the tv, console joypad wires all neatly wound up, newspapers in a bundle on the shelf under the coffee table. Apparently the bombsite he called his office these days really was due to lack of filing space. Either that or tidying was his distraction when he was at home.

"You wanted to talk scars, Carter?"

She just shrugged, not trusting her voice. He pulled off his boots and socks, wrinkling up his nose.

"Eau de O'Neill feet, sorry."

She tried to smile, tried to remember why she'd thought coming here at 11 at night would be a good idea.

"How d'ya like _them_ scars?"

"Oh God! How did that happen?"

He was holding his left foot over his right knee, exposing the sole, which had a lot of dead skin and scar tissue.

"Want to see the other one?"

Without waiting for an answer, he lifted his other foot and since she was sitting on his diagonal right, the only way to let her see the sole was to lie back on the sofa and hold it up. She didn't notice he'd unbuttoned his shirt until he sat up and took it off, exposing his broad chest and flat stomach. He had a couple of old gunshot wounds, she could see, and a scar that said a broken collarbone had been operated on. He stood up and wordlessly turned around.

**

He could feel her, now warm, fingers on his back, tracing the lines. He could feel his heart pounding so loudly, the absurd thought that she must be able to hear it too, crossed his mind. He heard her voice tremble, as she whispered.

"Who did this to you?"

He sat back down, lifting his shirt from the floor where he couldn't remember it falling and began to pull it back on. She didn't move, stood over him, waiting for an answer. He couldn't meet her eyes.

"Bad men, a long time ago."

"You were tortured."

"Give the girl a coconut!"

He regretted it as soon as he said it, but the words seemed to have left his mouth of their own volition. They'd obviously bypassed his brain because he couldn't recall thinking them first. Once again, he wished he didn't have quite such a smart mouth. Sam sat down, looking upset.

"Sorry, I didn't mean that. Yeah, I was tortured, worse than Baal even, and before you ask… I was shot and captured in a Middle Eastern country, which shall remain nameless since I wasn't _technically_ there, and it was about 4 months before I managed to escape. It would take too long to list everything they did to me and I'm not getting any younger here so I'll give you the highlights."

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and recited in a monotone.

"Beating, whipping, electrocution, drugs, sleep depravation, starvation…"

He finished breathing out and took another deep breath in.

"I was hung by the arms for days, had fingers broken, toe nails ripped out, teeth pulled by a guy I'm _pretty_ sure didn't have ADA accreditation…"

**

__

Oh my God, he's describing how he was tortured and he's actually joking about it.

"You never let on, never said anything at all, Sir.

"Well, it's not something you drop into casual conversation, is it? "Yes, lovely weather we're having, I was tortured nearly to death after a Top Secret Black Op went wrong and how about them Yankees?" Even if I had wanted to talk about it, which incidentally, I don't really, but nevermind, how was I supposed to bring it up?"

Jack leaned back on the sofa, one arm running along the back of it, the other rubbing his face. He still hadn't buttoned his shirt, giving Sam a good view of his torso. As she stared at his chest, she realised he was watching her and she turned away, blushing furiously.

"Other people's scars are pretty fascinating, aren't they?" he asked, sagely.

Oh no, Sir, I wasn't looking at your scars!"

__

Oh God, Sam! Why don't you just jump him? It couldn't be any less subtle!

It was all she could do not to groan out loud. Had she been alone, she'd have been banging her head off the wall. She risked a glance his way, but he wasn't looking at her. Instead, he was looking straight ahead with his eyebrows raised. Desperate to fill the void, Sam asked the first question that sprang to mind.

**

"Who else knows, Sir?"

"Hmm… General Hammond, of course. And Dr Frasier, of course. I assume she suggested bringing up the topic? Don't worry, I suggested it to her first, after the… accident, but we figured you'd think I was being patronising. In fact, until this afternoon, my opinion hadn't changed so I had a good excuse not to talk to you about it."

"I feel really stupid now. I mean, I've been acting like the universe collapsed and I only have a couple of tiny blemishes in comparison to you. Uh… I hope that didn't sound as bad as I think it did… And I wasn't tortured, either. I was unconscious in a matter of seconds and had pain medication for months. God, you must think I'm such a self-centred cow!"

"No, Sam, I don't", he replied softly.

"_The_ universe may not have collapsed, but yours did. Your whole world changed. You went from being… self-reliant, capable and assured, to… severely injured, self-doubting and reliant on others, at least in the beginning, to help you perform the most simple, even intimate, tasks. Do you think I was running around like nothing had happened, 5 minutes after I got home? I still have nightmares sometimes, especially after Baal. The Doc had me doped up for weeks after I left the infirmary, just so I could get a few hours sleep each night. But do you know what? None of that can compare to the pain of losing a child, especially if you know it's your fault. I'd go through it all again if it could somehow bring Charlie back."

She watched him blink away the tears and sniff. He looked up at her.

"You have your whole life ahead of you, Sam. Don't let it all end here, you career, your friendships… No-one who cares about you sees scars, they see a friend in pain, in need."

He shook his head.

"Life's too short to waste on regrets. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I don't have my bad days, but I know they'll eventually pass and I always have my friends to cheer me up, even if they don't know why I need it."

She was crying, as she whispered her darkest fear.

"But I feel like such a freak."

Jack left the sofa to kneel in front of Sam, ignoring his protesting knee, taking her hands in his and setting his tone of voice to "authoritative".

"Now listen here, Missy, you are no such thing."

He softened his voice and squeezed her hands gently.

"You're an incredibly smart, incredibly beautiful woman, Sam."

She suddenly looked horrified and jumped up, bolting for the door.

"Nooo you don't!"

Jack jumped up right behind her and threw his arms around her, the force of her momentum and his spin turning them through almost an extra 270 degrees and throwing them onto the sofa. Even though the impact had knocked the wind out of him, Jack didn't let go, didn't even loosen his arms as she struggled, despite the fact he could hardly breathe. But it only took a moment for the struggling to stop, to be replaced with deep, wracking sobs.

"It's ok, it's ok… Let it go. Let it all go…"

He got a hand round, under her opposite knee, and pulled her up so she was sitting across his lap instead of in it and he held her closer.

**

"You're an incredibly smart, incredibly beautiful woman, Sam."

__

Oh God!

Before she even realised it, Sam was on her feet, running for the door. Why had she come here? What did he want that he would lie, so shamelessly, for?

She wasn't quite sure how she ended up in his lap on the sofa and it didn't matter, she had to get out of there. She had to get away from him, but he wouldn't let go. All of her energy, all of her fight, left her, and Sam found herself sobbing in his arms, no longer caring about anything. What anybody thought. What _he_ thought. She just didn't have the strength any more.

"It's ok, it's ok… Let it go. Let it all go…"

Eventually, when she had no more tears left, she fell asleep there.

**

When Jack awoke, it took him a moment to recall where he was and just what he was doing with Carter in his lap. His head and knee protested, loudly, at the night's maltreatment and requested painkillers, though for different reasons. She was still sitting how he'd positioned her and her head was on his shoulder, the top in the crook of his neck. He could feel each warm breath stirring the hair on his chest. Her right hand rested just below his collarbone, the index and middle fingers sitting on his scar. The head and knee would have to wait, he couldn't disturb her. It was definitely a good thing he had the following day off.

As he listened to the seconds ticking away on the clock, he hoped that whatever happened, she found peace. He found he didn't care whether or not she passed some stupid evaluation, just as long as she was happy. She was far from happy right now. She was upset, confused, angry and lonely. If he kissed her right now, she would reciprocate. If he took her by the hand and led her to the bedroom, she'd go willingly. But he could never take advantage of her like that. Maybe she'd stay with him, but the way she was, it would probably only be out of some misplaced sense of gratitude that he, or any man, would want to be with her. More likely though, it would destroy their friendship and any hope of a real, loving, relationship in their future.

Jack was no fool. He knew that, as a species, human beings were drawn to that sort of intimacy with one another as a natural response to emotionally upsetting events. Knowing it was his genetic hardwiring, the caveman in him, didn't make him feel any less guilty that the thought had even flitted across his mind.

He closed his eyes and relaxed, concentrating on the sensation of her breathing, the warm air flowing down his torso. He'd rather go back to the torture of working beside her, day after day, unable to do anything about his feelings for her, than see her like this again. He'd rather she was happy without him, than unhappy with him.

When Jack next awoke, after a surprisingly dreamless sleep, Sam was gone.

End of Chapter 11

**

A/N Well, whatever you thought, if you hit the little button just down there that says "Go", you can tell me. Please tell me. Please?


	12. The Colour of Pain Chapter 12

****

The Colour of Pain Chapter 12

****

**

Sam hadn't seen the Colonel since _that_ night. When she woke up, she had no idea what to say to him, so, when he didn't wake as she extricated herself from his arms, she took the easy way out. 

Now she was worried about what he'd say when he saw her in the facility. It was not a foregone conclusion that they would meet, they rarely had any "official" business but she wondered if they still had that stupid extra PT time scheduled together. Or was he going on a mission today? She'd find out this afternoon, she supposed, but until then, she'd be preoccupied with it. With _him_.

Coffee. She'd go and get some coffee in the mess, maybe something sweet too. She could read while absorbing the life-giving caffeine and sugar.

**

"Going somewhere, Carter?"

Jack tried to keep his tone light and remember she was probably still feeling quite vulnerable. Still, she hadn't so much as stuck a note on the fridge door and if he recalled correctly, he wouldn't even have any damn magnets if she hadn't given him them. He was at a loss at to what their messages were or even when and why she'd given them to him. Birthday? Christmas?

__

So not the point! Focus!

"Um… I was just stepping out for a moment, Sir."

Ok, later he realised that this was where his recall went a little fuzzy. He couldn't quite work out how they'd ended up arguing but he didn't doubt it was his fault, if for no other reason than it was always his fault. Well, 90% of the time, anyway. Maybe 98%, if he was honest.

He'd made some sort of quip or comment about her sleeping with him and it degenerated from there. He hadn't meant anything by it, surely she ought to know that? But before he could say, "Oh fer cryin' out loud!" she was almost at his throat before running, crying, from her lab.

Hell. There was nothing he could do. He and the rest of SG-1 were heading out in less than 20 minutes. He'd only come to check up on her and say goodbye before he left. He hoped that if he'd done any good at all the other night, he hadn't just _undone_ it. He'd try and make it up to her when he got back, tomorrow.

"Sensitive, Jack. Very sensitive…"

**

With the better part of three days to think about it, Sam realised she'd grossly over-reacted. Yes, the joke had undoubtedly been inappropriate but her reaction had been completely out of proportion. It had probably been the suggestive wink that had acted as the metaphorical straw though.

__

"By the way, next time we sleep together, could we try it without the clothes?"

He'd only been trying to lighten the mood, though Sam wondered if she'd feel so generous toward him if SG-1 were not already over 30 hours overdue. 30 hours was a long time and while the Colonel acted like a bit of a maverick sometimes, if he didn't report on time, it was because something, or someone, was stopping him. He acted like the class-clown, but that was all it was, Sam knew, an act.

__

More like the Complex-Clown really… Where the Hell_ are Search and Rescue?_

Sam took a deep breath to try and calm herself. Just because she'd had a fight with him, it didn't mean his mission was somehow jinxed. She didn't believe in such nonsense.

****

"UNAUTHORISED INCOMING WORMHOLE"

She ran to the control room, praying, to a God she wasn't even sure she believed in, that it would be good news.

"It's the Tok'ra, Sir," Technician Davies told General Hammond.

"Open the iris," the older Texan man responded.

However, instead of the expected Tok'ra, out of the open wormhole stepped SG-1. A rather bedraggled looking SG-1, Sam noted. And weaponless, too. The relief she felt on hearing the Colonel's voice was felt by everyone else in the room, though not to the same degree.

"Sir, recommend SG-1's GDO's are immediately locked out and any and all Search and Rescue teams are recalled from P8X-438. The natives are _not_ all friendly."

Sam realised he was cradling one arm in the other while Daniel and Teal'c, both sporting cuts and bruises, were actually supporting Adams between them, the scientist who had replaced her.

"What the Hell happened to your team, Colonel, and how did you end up with a Tok'ra GDO signal?"

"It's a long story, General, but if you can't wait for the movie, I'll write you the book."

**

Sam had been incensed when Janet had told her SG-1 were not allowed visitors. She was also evasive when questioned about when they'd be released. Even after several hours had passed, she still gave no word, though she at least confirmed they would all be ok. Sam found herself sneaking into the Infirmary that night, her excuse already prepared.

Her jaw hurt.

Perfect. She had a pre-existing injury she could blame and no-one could prove otherwise! Certainly no-one could claim she didn't have a good excuse to be there. Even better, she wouldn't have to try and sneak past the nurse's station, as it was empty. If anyone asked, she was looking for a nurse to help her. 

__

Wonder if there are any nurses in here? Oh, look, the Colonel's in this room! Fancy that!

**

"No… No, please… Stop… No…"

Jack was moaning in his sleep, writhing around in his hospital bed. He jerked awake suddenly, sitting bolt upright, covered in sweat. He forced himself to take long, slow, deep breaths, trying to bring his racing heart under control. When he spotted Carter, no more than a few feet away, he was glad the dim lighting would hide the colour in his face.

"How long have you been standing there?" he asked, gruffly, lying back down.

She countered with a question of her own.

"Bad dreams?"

He simply nodded. The light was sufficient for that.

"Bad men?"

It was a moment before he nodded for a second time.

"From long ago or… more recently?"

He did not reply.

**

Sam could see the sweat glistening all over his body. She took a towel from the small hand basin and smoothed it over his upper body. He just lay there in the semi-darkness, thinking God only knew what, watching her. Once he appeared to be dry, she pulled the sheets up higher over his torso. He had to have lost body heat, she knew and just as she was about to release her grip, she felt him shiver under her fingers. Still he said nothing. Was he really that mad at her?

"I… wanted to apologise, Sir, for the other day. I over-reacted and I'm sorry."

"_You're_ apologising to _me_? It was my fault, I'm the one who should be apologising. Do you know why you over-reacted though? And don't say it was because I'm an insensitive bastard, that's a given."

"Well…"

Sam paused a moment to think, to organise her thoughts.

"I think I was scared, Sir."

"Sorry, I should have added that to the "given" list. Why though?"

She couldn't see him rolling his eyes, but she knew without a doubt he just had.

"Because… Because you've seen me at my worst, I guess. Because I'm still vulnerable, around you especially and you know it. You could hurt me more than anyone else."

He next sentence was a whisper, so low as to be almost inaudible.

"Because of how the Regs say I'm not allowed to feel about you."

"Bravo, Sammie! I'd declare you officially cured but I'm willing to bet the Psych boys'd be a little put out at me stealing their thunder!"

"Cured?"

Confusion was evident in her voice.

"Yeah, well, if you can say that to me, albeit in the dark when I'm weak and injured and in no fit state to sweep you off your feet, you can say anything to anyone! Crisis of confidence, over!"

This time it was Sam's turn to roll her eyes. She would have bet a year's salary too, that his "prognosis" had been accompanied by another suggestive wink, thankfully lost to the dark. However, she couldn't help but grin.

"With respect, Colonel; A, you ever try to sweep me off my feet, I may _accidentally_ permanently impair your ability to reproduce and B, where did you get your psychology degree? 'Cause you should ask for your money back."

"What? You don't think it was worth the $29.99 I paid online last week then?"

"Do you really want me to answer that, Sir? What was it? A BA? A BSc?"

"A PhD, actually."

"Shame. MA would have fitted better, _Doctor O'Neill_."

There was a pause.

"Oh ha ha, Carter," he replied, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.

**

In the morning, Janet was only mildly irritated to find Sam asleep in the chair beside Colonel O'Neill's bed. She left the room and made some noise, stamping a bit and calling on the nurses to have some reports ready in 10 minutes time. When she reappeared they were both awake and the chair had been moved at least a foot back. Sam jumped to her feet.

"Uh… I'd better get back to work now, Colonel. Janet," she nodded.

As she reached the door, the Colonel called out to her.

"Sam?"

He smiled.

"Long time ago. Ancient history, even."

Janet didn't understand his comment, but she could see the relief on Sam's face as she smiled in return.

"By the way, Sir, how did you get a Tok'ra GDO signal?"

"Oh, Danny took us to their latest base after we escaped. We didn't exactly have time to go searching for the Marines who were searching for us, what with the nasty mob and their nasty dogs and their nasty stealing of all our cool gear." 

Sam grinned as he pretended to pout at that.

"Then the Tok'ra dialled us home and signalled to let us through. Simple, really."

"I see, Sir."

"Oh, and Dad and Selmak send their love too!"

"Enough! Out, Sam! And you, Colonel, get back to sleep or next time you'll be getting more inoculations than strictly necessary!"

"Youbetcha, Doc! And Carter… I _am_ sorry."

**

End of Chapter 12


	13. The Colour of Pain Chapter 13

****

The Colour of Pain Chapter 13

A/N: This is the final chapter, campers, though I'm not averse to the possibility of writing a sequel should I be given the impetus. wink wink, nudge nudge You all know what the review button is for and how it works…

There's a fair amount of nerves and angst-y type decision making going on here and, consequently, the thoughts and feelings of the characters are slightly muddled and not necessarily following a logical order. Most of you won't need that explanation I'm sure, but this is the internet and you know how some people are! 

Enjoy.

**

Major Samantha Carter, United States Air Force, waited nervously outside General Hammond's office. He had the results of her psychological and physical assessments from the week before but she was a few minutes early for her appointment and she felt incredibly nervous and not a little nauseous. Her entire future would be based on those reports. On the one hand, passing them would mean a return to normal life - or at least what had passed for normal life for Sam, in the years before her injuries, since joining the SGC. But then, failure of one, other, or both evaluations would mean automatic discharge from the Air Force on medical grounds. She wouldn't have to leave the Stargate Program but she'd never be allowed to rejoin SG-1, or any other SG unit for that matter. In fact, she'd probably never go offworld again unless there was an emergency and she was evacuated to either the Alpha or Beta sites. And what about Colonel O'Neill? As a civilian she'd be allowed to fraternise with him all she liked.

Sam realised she had her head in her hands and quickly straightened up. It wouldn't do to be seen, in the corridor, looking like she thought her head would explode, even if it was how she felt.

Where did she do most good? While she'd been a part of SG-1, her lab time had been limited by their missions, briefings, training and reports. But trapped in her lab, she didn't get to see the alien technology she was working with, in situ. However, pure lab work meant she could concentrate, solely, on that. No running off mid-experiment or having to plan them around missions, sometimes delaying them for a week, or even longer, to accommodate mission schedules. And no missions meant no danger. No gunfights, capture or torture.

Again, her mind flitted back to the subject of Colonel Jonathan J "Jack" O'Neill. As if he could be called a "subject". And now that she was thinking about him, full name and all, she'd have to find out what that middle initial stood for, one of these days.

__

I wonder how he feels about being called JJ?

It would probably get right up his nose, she decided. She'd have to remember that, if he ever called her "Sammie" again.

It was 2 o'clock on the dot. Sam knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Sam knew that General Hammond, as an old friend of her father's, had bounced her on his knee as a baby, but she didn't remember him from her childhood. Though perhaps he was the reason she'd always liked Texan accents and always found his voice, in particular, soothing. Except when he shouted. Times like that didn't count, of course.

"Major Carter, please, sit down. I won't beat around the bush. I have both good news and bad news. The good news is that you passed your physical fitness evaluation with flying colours. Apparently letting you beat up on Colonel O'Neill for all those weeks was worth it after all."

The way he was smiling at her, a combination of amusement and fatherly affection, suggested he _did_ know how the Colonel got that shiner, but was proud of her all the same. His face became more serious, however, as he opened his mouth to speak again.

"The… bad… news is that the psychologists' report was not so glowing. It would appear that the doctors are completely divided on the state of your mental health and your ability, in that respect, to carry out your duties. And of course, other than Dr Mackenzie, they have no idea about the true nature of your duties here, which presents me with an additional problem in weighting their report."

"Weighting, Sir?"

"Yes, Major. "Weighting". With this report carrying no definitive conclusions, it falls to me to decide whether or not you're fit to return to active duty. The question is: Do _you_ think you're fit?"

Sam took a moment to think before answering.

"Honestly, Sir? I'm not sure, myself. I've been thinking about it a lot. What I want to do and where I'm most valuable and… I just don't know, Sir."

"Thank you for your honesty, Major, I appreciate it. Frankly, I was considering automatically discharging you if you'd answered "yes" straight away and without hesitation. However, your answer tells me that you're not just thinking about yourself but also how this decision will affect others and the work we do here."

The General sighed as he closed the file.

"Major Carter, I want you to spend a few days thinking about what you'd do if it were up to you and what you'd do if you were in my place. I want you to give careful thought to what you _can_ do, what you'd _like_ to do and to the differences and similarities between the two. What you'd be gaining and giving up, either way. The fact is, I can't order you through that Gate again if we don't both think you're a hundred per cent. What I _can_ do, however, is allow you to visit with your father for a few days, if you want to. I've already checked with the Tok'ra and he's working on their base at the moment, though I hasten to add, he doesn't know about the communiqué, so, no pressure. I just thought you might appreciate the option. Regardless of where you go, I'm putting you on leave for the next week. I want to see you, 0800 hours next Monday with your decision. I have faith you'll make the right one for you."

General Hammond stood up and began to walk around the desk. Sam followed suit and stood up too. He pulled her into a quick embrace.

"Good luck, Sam."

**

Jack O'Neill was almost jumping up and down on the spot with barely concealed impatience. It was 0748 by his watch and Carter hadn't logged in yet. He was standing near the main lift, on the ground floor, waiting for her. Sure, he could wait for the "official" version from the General but that probably wouldn't be till at least 0830 and he couldn't wait that long. If she hadn't gone to the Tok'ra base for a few days, if he hadn't been sent on a three day mission and if the Fates hadn't conspired to cause these events to take place at over-lapping times, thereby preventing him from speaking to her for the last week… It had taken Daniel the entire three days of the mission to talk him out of going straight round to see her the _moment_ he got back.

"She doesn't need that sort of pressure Jack!"

He'd been right of course, but it wasn't like Jack would actually tell him so. 

It occurred to him that she might just have taken her final, ever, trip through the Stargate and of course, that thought had to have crossed her mind too. Would that have affected her decision? How would seeing her father affect it? Especially considering what he now did "for a living", as it were. What he _was_, even.

Jack sighed and tried to stop bouncing up and down like a moron on too much caffeine. Were those footsteps he could hear? A moment later, he saw her round the corner, walking towards him. 

"Hey, Carter. How ya doin'?" he called out to her, trying to keep his voice neutral.

"Just peachy, Sir," she replied.

She was smiling. What did that mean? Was she just being friendly? Was she actually pleased to see him? Did it mean something more? Wait a minute, there was something else different about her, other than the smile.

"Carter, I don't want to sound like an insensitive jerk here but your face… looks a little… different…"

The smile didn't falter as they stepped into the lift. As she moved around him, he saw the scar was completely gone. No, not gone, that wasn't possible. But it wasn't there either. She must have covered it up. Janet had told him that was possible, while Sam had still been unconscious after the operation. It had taken him every ounce of self-control he'd possessed that night not to cry, or worse, start screaming at Janet for what she'd done. It had been necessary. And the scar would fade with time and could be camouflaged with make-up. Up until now though, Sam had shown no interest in covering it. What did _this_ mean? 

"I'm trying a new look, Colonel. Like it?"

"Well, Major… I may be a little biased and also a little out of line but… Ahem… Actually, I'd be a whole lot out of line if I told you how good I think you look at any time."

Jack knew he was grinning like an idiot but when he saw the amused look in her eyes, he felt like his heart was melting, all over the floor of the lift.

**

Did the Colonel need the toilet or something? He was hopping up and down in one place like a child and Sam couldn't help but find it rather endearing. She rather suspected the true cause though, woman's intuition and all that. They made it past level 21 before he exploded.

"SO?!"

"So what, Sir?" she replied innocently.

"Don't you "so what?" me, Sammie! Put me out my Godamn misery, one way or the other!"

"Sorry, _JJ_, I have a meeting with General Hammond I'm almost late for. I have to go, I'll see you later."

The lift doors "pinged" open and she left with a grin.

**

The lift doors "pinged" closed with Jack still inside, open mouthed.

"_JJ_?"

**

Sam's meeting with General Hammond had gone well and he had completely backed her decision. Knowing she had his full support made her feel better, more confident about it but talking to a certain Colonel was going to be very difficult. But then, whatever decision she made, talking to him would be difficult. If she chose to retain her commission, she'd be effectively ending any relationship between them before it even began. If she chose to leave, on the other hand, that would precipitate an even scarier conversation with him. As she opened the door to her lab, she knew he'd be waiting.

**

Jack looked, and felt, perfectly calm as Sam walked into the lab and he asked _the_ question.

"So, are you still "Major" Carter or will they be replacing the sign on your door?"

**

The End.

A/N You can kill me if you like but then you'll NEVER get a sequel. Hit that little button there in the bottom left-hand corner and tell me what you think. It'll only take you a minute and I have a big bag of marshmallows here, just waiting to be toasted on any flames over my evil ending!

Thanks to everyone who's reviewed thus far, it's been much appreciated and warmed the cockles of my heart. Whatever and wherever they are, they're warm. Special thanks to NG, urdreamkeeper and Lynn who have pretty much been reviewing me from the beginning and have stuck with the story, saying nice things! Thanks guys!


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